Tharuir
by SilvanCleo
Summary: Legolas and Gimli find an elf lost in the woods who remembers nothing of her past life


Title: [b]Tharuir[/b] [i](Beyond Eternal)[/i] Rating: PG-13 Notes: This is a rare piece that requires such a low rating. I wrote this before I'd read any of the LOTR Trilogy, just after I'd seen "Fellowship."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
It was a beautifully warm and sunny morning, as was usual in Rivendell in late spring. The freshly budded green trees breathed with new life and the air seemed more humid than crisp. The layers and shafts of sunlight that broke through the giants reaching their leafy fingers to the sky warmed the ferns and flowering plants radiating of blue, yellow, and pink hues below.  
  
A raucous voice rose above the calming sounds of birds and breeze. "Your attempts shall be nothing less than a farce," exclaimed Gimli. The dwarf with braided reddish hair and beard folded his arms across his chest as his hoarse voice broke into a chuckle.  
  
"You shall see soon enough," Legolas turned slightly and smiled with mock irritation. The tall, blonde haired Elf then focused unwavering blue eyes on his target before his bowstring released, sending an arrow almost imperceptibly through the air. The red apple precariously perched on the limb of a tree across the clearing, dozens of feet away, split with a "thwack" and dropped in two halves onto the grass below.  
  
Legolas lowered his bow and turned towards the seemingly annoyed dwarf. "Must we go over this and over this?" he asked of Gimli's nearly weekly challenge to see who could slice the apple cleanest from that distance. The dwarf's axe thrown at the apple would cut it sure, but with the force at which it was thrown, not to mention the weight of the blade coming down upon the piece of fruit, would crush it before it even hit the ground.  
  
The dwarf scoffed at him as he lifted his face to the light above that shown through the layers of leaves. He sensed it was nearly the time he'd agreed to take Frodo out for an archery lesson, so he strode back into the woods in the direction of Rivendell.  
  
Gimli called after him: "Yes, but we shall just see who inflicts more damage in battle!"  
  
The red-haired dwarf caught up in a moment. Approaching Legolas, he was surprised to see his friend's usually placid expression become tense. Gimli quieted the contentious tone in his voice momentarily. "What matter concerns you, Sir Elf?"  
  
Legolas's senses became overwhelmed and he stood completely still. A dark, dull pain crept into his awareness as he closed his eyes, focusing on what he was feeling. With a furrowed brow, and his long fingers up to his forehead, he tried to sense better what it was and where. His thoughts intensified to one commanding point: something was terribly wrong. A shot of electricity raced up his arms, down his legs, and in a second his narrowed blue, turned almost grey, eyes surveyed the area. Deciding quickly which way to go, his long legs treaded at a quick pace through the wooded area.  
  
When his sense was at its strongest, he was forced to close his eyes again, unable to focus on anything else. Opening his eyes again, he had come to another, if smaller, clearing dictated by the stream that bubbled down shelves of limestone rock. Scanning the area, he noticed across the way that a bushes leaves were moving just slightly, even though there was no wind. Taking a step back, he then leapt over the channel, leaving Gimli on the other side, and still quite far behind. With bow in hand and an arrow cradled cautiously on the string, he moved around the shrub, ready to strike down any creature that made a hostile move.  
  
His narrow lips parted slightly in surprise, as he lowered his weapon and returned the arrow to the bundle on his back. Surveying the area, he noted the distance of footprints in the clay-like soil. They were far apart from each other to indicate that the young woman in a dark blue dress had been running, and at quite a pace before she had landed here.  
  
Coming down on one knee, he gently turned her over and slid a hand behind her neck, lifting her head a little. She did not stir even as he pushed the dark locks of hair away from her silent features. Deep concern was written across his tense face, wondering what she was doing here by herself, and better yet what she had been running from. He might not have been so anxious had he not sensed the extreme distress she was feeling moments before that had driven him to this place.  
  
In another attempt to gain some kind of response from her, he touched her hand and pulled it up to her midsection. Glancing down at her slender fingers, he could not help but notice how cool to the touch they seemed.  
  
With a furrowed brow, he looked back up at her. While he had been looking away, she had opened her dull greyish eyes and was now staring back at him. There was no fear there, nor even any questioning or concern, only exhaustion.  
  
Jumping on this opportunity now that she seemed at least partially responsive, his lips turned up slightly in a reassuring way, even though the concern was still present in his gaze. "Hullo," he said to her in a recognizably soft tone. "Are you all right?"  
  
For an instant she looked confused but closed her eyes. He pressed his lips together. She did not understand the Elvish he used. He tried again, but this time using the more common language known in Middle Earth. As he spoke, her gaze met with his. She replied only by devoting her entire attention to him.  
  
He decided to take a different approach to his questioning, but used the language she seemed to prefer. "Were you traveling with someone?  
  
His inquiry was responded to this time by a look of panic that flashed across her face. Reaching across her body, what seemed like painfully, she touched the gauntlet of his left hand that was touching the ground she was laying upon. Instinctively, he grabbed her hand and held onto it tightly.  
  
"I understand," he explained simply.  
  
A harsh voice echoed across the brook to the trees that surrounded the semi- clearing. "Legolas, what are you doing over there?" Gimli inquired, trying to move around to see behind the bush.  
  
"She needs help," Legolas shouted back. "I'm taking her to Rivendell. She'll be protected in Rivendell."  
  
"...She?" Gimli returned.  
  
As she looked up into the clear blue eyes of the fair-skinned Elf, she was able to divert her attention from the searing pain in her throat. Somehow he communicated to her a sense of calmness and the idea that she was going to be all right. It was a welcome thought because since she could remember, her world was filled with nothing but chaos. He stroked a hand gently over her hair before standing up. On shaky legs she managed to stand with his help. His beautiful face smiled down at her and she found herself smiling back. Somehow this all felt vaguely familiar and that was a very comforting thought that very nearly made her want to cry with relief. And she would have cried too, if only she could remember how.  
  
******  
  
Her eyes fluttered open, but even the reddish-orange glow of sunset seemed too bright. She allowed herself the time to discover exactly where she was. At the sides of her body, her fingertips moved over the soft blanket covering her. The sheets, blankets, and several pillows behind her were a soft blue that seems to match the cream colored octagonal walls decorated with carved vines of gold that looped around themselves, ending their design by dangling down the edges of the ceiling.  
  
Realizing the security of the wide bed she lay in, she pulled the blue blanket up closer to her neck. The covering almost seemed a shade of purple because of the pink light that flooded into the room by way of the large open balcony doors to her right. Just outside of the room, she could make out the top of a tall tree covered with white blossoms, but in the cooling haze of the approaching twilight, lent a rosy hue to the pedals.  
  
Just as she began contemplating drifting off to sleep again, she sensed footsteps treading across the floor. A tall, brunette man in a white tunic approached the bed and looked down at her with a warm smile.  
  
"It is good to see you are awake," he said, nodding slowly. He had been instructed previously to avoid using the Elvish tongue. "How are you feeling?"  
  
She sat up a little, adjusting the pillows behind her before she finally settled in and exhaled slowly. She did feel better, if a little tired, but didn't quite know how to express that.  
  
The brown-haired Elf spoke in her stead. "Your health was rapidly declining before you arrived here. But there is a marked improvement now, is there not?" She nodded. He smiled slightly, watching her wide-eyed response, and came to sit on the edge of the bed facing her.  
  
"I would be interested in knowing what you came up against to elicit the medicinal attention you required when Legolas brought you here," he continued. Pausing for a moment, he could see her trying to process what had happened. "But you cannot remember?"  
  
She lifted her eyebrows and shook her head. Why couldn't she remember? Obviously she had an existence before she found herself laying beside that stream in the woods, but it seemed too hazy, too distant to think of. She sighed heavily, her frustration growing with each passing moment that her recollection failed.  
  
"No matter," he added, patting the air with his hand, "it will all come in time. As should your vocal speech patterns..."  
  
Her fingers unconsciously moved towards her throat that still stung a little.  
  
He nodded. "We're not giving up hope on that."  
  
Is that why it hurt? A flash of panic broke through the surface of her consciousness. What would she do now that she was unable to express herself in this world she knew nothing about? She couldn't ask questions about this Rivendell, like where it was located for start, nor about these beings she'd never come in contact with before. They seemed nice enough, at least the elves that she'd met so far, but she still had an overwhelming feeling of being stranded.  
  
Seeing the increasingly deep concern written across her gentle features, he decided to change the subject. "Will you be accepting visitors?"  
  
She nodded, even though she was still preoccupied with her own concerns. He moved towards the door and poked his head out for a brief moment before the blonde haired Elf stepped into the room. She looked up and recognizing the slight smile of Legolas, put aside her worry for the moment and motioned for him to come in.  
  
His grey cloak flowed with the motion of his body as he glided across the room to her. She noticed it reached past his knees, but not quite to his boots, as he sat down next to her. Even though he was so tall, every movement of his seemed graceful, she thought to herself.  
  
An almost shy smile formed at the corners of his mouth before he looked up into her eyes. "Elrond here says you're doing so much better now. You do look it."  
  
Not much was familiar to her here except for him, and she found herself once again calmed by his presence. She wished she could tell him that though. She wished she could express her relief, and her thanks, because it was becoming increasingly apparent he may have saved her life. She could only nod that yes, in fact, she was feeling better.  
  
************ Early that next afternoon, her door opened slightly, but she did not notice. She stood out on the balcony where Elrond had been yesterday, and tried to take in the vast view of flowering trees, tall structures they'd built as houses and sanctuaries to experience the splendor of nature, and the waterfall rushing forth from the rocks high above that seemed to be the life-force for these people. She followed the lines of the buildings with her eyes, fascinated to see how their dwellings were designed to blend right into the forest around them.  
  
"Um, excuse me," came a soft voice from behind. She turned to the small man who looked more like a boy standing in the doorway. He was dressed in brown pants and jacket to match. His curly brown hair very nearly covered his wide blue eyes as well as his small, pointed ears. A wide smile brightened his already pleasant face, and she could not help but return it, seeing the pure innocence in him. He became more bold and took a step closer.  
  
"Hello, I'm sorry to intrude, but Legolas said so much of you, I just had to meet you." He extended a purple flower with white tips out to her which she stepped closer to take. Coming down on her knees, he stood nearly the same height as her. The smile had not faded from his face as he watched her move.  
  
"My name is Frodo Baggins," he told her, placing a small hand over his chest, "and I have heard you've been through quite an ordeal."  
  
She almost wanted to laugh had he not been so serious. He looked at her for a long moment, making her suddenly very self conscious. His eyebrows raised in the middle, showing the concern he felt.  
  
"Excuse me again for being so forward," he began, "but I cannot help the feeling that you need to be hugged."  
  
She thought for a moment and then lowered just a little so his arms came around her neck, embarrassing her tightly. After a short pause, she rather uncomfortably patted his back with her palm.  
  
"This all must be terribly frightening for you," he spoke to her quietly over her shoulder, "but it will all work out. You're in the best possible place you could be in."  
  
After a long moment he released her grasp on her as he continued, "Well I guess there could be better places, such as your home. Anyway, I came here to invite you to supper which my uncle, Bilbo Baggins, is preparing at this very moment."  
  
He nodded at her. "I shall take that for a yes, and so I will return in a few hours to lead you to the banquet. In the mean time, you can just relax here." As he was about to back away to tell Bilbo to set the table for one more, she noticed the dark boots that were standing a short distance away. She followed the line of his lanky body until she looked up into Legolas's chiseled features.  
  
Frodo walked slowly by the blond Elf, pausing only for a moment to tell him something which she could only assume was their dinner plans. Rising to her feet again, she exhaled slowly, feeling a blush coming to her cheeks. A swell of calmness rose up from inside of her which was a welcome sensation considering the apprehension she'd felt just moments before. She was clearly aware of the vulnerability that possessed her in this unfamiliar environment, but somehow at that moment it did not seem quite so ominous.  
  
The fair skinned Elf approached her slowly, deliberately. His smooth voice was gentle, his words fluid, as he spoke in nearly a whisper. "You remember nothing of how you came here?" he asked without pretense. She shook her head, wishing there was more of an answer to give him, but even if she could articulate herself, she had nothing to say.  
  
His stormy blue eyes searched her gaze for a long moment and she wondered what kind of a decision he was making. "There is something you must see," he resolved finally, lifting a hand to her which she took.  
  
A brief spark of worry came to her thoughts, reminding her to beware of everything going on around her, but she was soon distracted from this thought as they glided through the long arched corridors open to the outside. Her cautiousness completely dissipated as the cool lavender breeze permeated her clothes and long dark hair. It was almost too much for her senses to take in all at once: the budding trees, light colored blooms floating gently to the ground, the sound of water roaring down upon itself in a distant waterfall, and the other fair skinned elves that passed by, greeting them in a language that sounded more like a song.  
  
She could not help but smile a little, hearing the Elvish flow over Legolas's lips as he returned greetings to the equally graceful beings he spoke to. She felt a little taller walking next to him, even though their shoulders nearly brushed against each other as it was.  
  
Stalking down several white and pink blossom covered stone paths, they came to a darker place, shaded with large tree branches that arched over the area. It was the training area with a stone wall about three feet high all the way around which was the perfect height for Hobbits to perch upon and watch the Elf archers become artists by practicing what they did best.  
  
Now standing in the center of the oval area, she turned slowly, glancing at each of the targets at varying distances from the wall. As she observed this place he'd shown her to, Legolas stepped away for a moment only to return with a tightly strung, delicately ornate bow and quiver. Holding the bow out to her, she lifted the surprisingly light weapon from his hand and ran her fingertips over the golden vine design on the face. Intensely involved with the slightly curved object in her grasp, her eyes diverted only for a moment, long enough to see the slick reddish feathers of an arrow being held out for her to take.  
  
Immediately her heart thumped faster and without thinking, she took a step back. Her suddenly tearful gaze darted up at him questioningly. She noticed then how tense his statuesque body was and realized he had been waiting to see her reaction.  
  
A look of deep anguish mixed with ill-favored curiosity filled his wide blue eyes. He had been unsure how she would take it. He knew he had to do it, but seeing the look on her face now made something deep inside his chest ache. He wished he hadn't done it. His features became tight and his dark eyebrows came down into a furrow, making the concern for her and distaste for his own poor judgment apparent in his expression.  
  
She bit on her lower lip and squinted her eyes, willing this sudden, unexplainable, all-encompassing pain to go away. Knowing she would be unable to fight it much longer, her gaze found his again. Taking her hand up in his, he stroked the inside of her palm with his fingertips. Realizing her extreme relaxation she thought to herself, 'I wonder how that happened.'  
  
"It's just something we Elves have learned to do over the centuries," he replied out loud. She looked up at him with wide eyes. "It first became important to us when we realized we could ease the pain of someone injured in battle. Now it seems a rather common trait."  
  
'This also is common to your people?' she thought to herself, testing him.  
  
"My people?" His unwavering blue eyes stared back down at her. "We try not to use this around Men. It tends to put them on edge if they know we know what they're thinking."  
  
'What is this of battle?' she asked him, now finding her mind flooding over with questions now that she knew he could understand her. "Elrond was telling me earlier that he was in a battle over 3000 years ago..."  
  
The muscles in his jaw clenched tightly a moment before he answered her. "Yes, we Elves are immortal. But we can be killed in battle... or simply die of a broken heart."  
  
She had not expected him to say something like that. 'I'm sorry, Legolas,' she thought to him. 'You've lost someone you loved?'  
  
"You will be late for Bilbo's dinner," he told her softly. "I shall escort you."  
  
She tapped her fingers together in thought as he moved to return the bow and quiver. There was a moment she'd been witness to when she'd looked into his eyes. She was not quite sure how to explain it even to herself but a flash of golden light had broken into her mind, allowing her to think of nothing else. It was an image, but more than an image, more like a memory or dream that held her attention completely fixed upon the two figures in front of her. Legolas was there, amongst a field full of little yellow flowers that swayed like waves on the sea when the wind blew. And there was someone else too that he was laughing with, but she could not make out the image dressed in a green hooded cloak. As quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.  
  
She watched his long legs close the distance between the two as he came to her side. Perhaps she was only imagining the one he lost. But she had this unexplainable sense that it was more than that. The only thing she did know for certain was that it must have still hurt him deeply.  
  
In a moment they were walking side by side back up the pathway. The sun had crept past the tree line on the rocky cliffs above the city so doorways, windows, and the paths were all lit with torches and candles that gave Rivendell new personality. The dark places were mostly back in the woods, but the rest of the city had a reddish-orange glow that illuminated the most ornate trellises to the smallest of pathways. To her it seemed even more alive now than during the day because the lighted places, if nothing else, gave indication to how much of this place was filled with Elves.  
  
'Why did you bring me here?' she asked him in thought, just then feeling more adventurous than usual.  
  
He stopped his forward motion and stood completely still. "You really don't remember anything, do you?" he asked turning towards her trying not to give any indication of hostility.  
  
"Is that what this was all about?" she answered a question with a question.  
  
Taking her hand, he wrapped it around his bicep and continued to walk again. "It doesn't appear I should be able to force it. Your memory shall just have to be restored on its own."  
  
She leaned into him a little. "Well perhaps it shall not be so bad. This time I will be able to fill my mind with beautiful things, like this place, its people. I should very well find your people most fascinating."  
  
"My people?" he repeated again, saying nothing more until they came to a bubbling fountain. Making a motion for her to look into it, with the lightest touch he gathered her long tendrils of hair behind her neck as she leaned forward.  
  
Looking into the pool after her, he noticed the confused expression across her face. "These," he began, motioning towards her rippling reflection, "these are my people."  
  
'I don't understand,' she told him straightening her tall, graceful figure. He released her hair, and her radiant features turned towards him.  
  
"You will understand," he reassured her, "you will, I promise." It was a promise he was not entirely sure should have been made the second after he said it. "You are here among your own and will have all the time you need to figure it out."  
  
She ran her fingertips over her pointed ears and looked back into the water. 'Well,' she sighed, 'this is a start.'  
  
"Indeed it is," his eyes smiled cautiously back at her.  
  
****** Frodo pulled the bowstring back an inch at a time, wanting to accurately make the motion Legolas had shown him.  
  
"Looks good!" came a voice from the stone wall around the outside of the training area that Frodo's friend Pippin to perch upon.  
  
Frodo lowered his aim and released, driving the arrow deep into the grass. "Pip!" he shouted to the other hobbit kicking his feet while munching an apple. "You made me miss!"  
  
"I don't believe so," replied the other, also with curly dark hair that came down to his eyes, "because, you see, your bad aim made you miss!"  
  
The hobbits' voices rose into laughter seconds previous to Legolas appearing at Frodo's side, with his long bow was at his back. "You're not..." the Elf paused to collect the misfired arrow from the ground, "taking this seriously enough, Frodo."  
  
"I am sorry," replied the hobbit, looking up at him with wide blue eyes and a smile across his face, "I will try to be more attentive."  
  
"You'd better do better than try," he answered coldly. In one quick, fluid motion he with his hand located firmly on the grip, he prepared an arrow and was staring down the target at the other end of the field. He turned his head to the side just slightly, looking down the shaft to aim. Frodo only felt the whoosh of air that separated just above him as Legolas, with agile fingers, pulled and released, pulled and released until every target around them was struck dead center.  
  
Frodo looked up at him, always amazed with the Elf's precision and speed. But this time it was not because of his archery that Frodo wanted to see his face. Never since he could remember, had the blonde spoken with such an icy tongue. Especially not to him.  
  
"What is it?" the hobbit asked, touching Legolas' hand that still held the bow. "What is wrong?"  
  
"Nothing," he replied shortly, setting another arrow. It sliced through the air and struck the last arrow with such force that it shattered and fell to the ground in pieces.  
  
Pippin saw his friend glance over at him and he paused mid-bite to shrug. Legolas' eyes were brilliant blue, but shown with a dark, ominous glare. And his sudden shortness of temper only fanned the flames of concern in Frodo's mind.  
  
******* After Frodo's "lesson," Legolas decided to take a walk through the woods and just be with his own mind for awhile. Feeling guilty about snapping at the hobbits, he moved silently over the mossy ground, becoming lost, entranced by the smell of the wet leaves. The warm breeze that moved through his blonde hair made the trees hum with spring's new energy. They wanted to sing, but very few had the voices to do it.  
  
His boots landed in one spot and he remained completely still. The Mirkwood elf remembered how she used to sing, the quenian words floating over her beautiful lips. She was always the happiest when she sang, and she sang whenever she was happy. But that was a long time ago, and he was a different person now, wasn't he? Yes. That goddess of Rivendell had died years ago. The only thing that remained was the memory of her sweet voice that seemed to crush his heart every time he thought of it. He had to stop thinking of it.  
  
Legolas began walking again, ducking under low branches. Then there was this other elf that had just stepped into his life. She was altogether beautiful, both physically and in thought. But her innocence and the way she looked at the world with such wonder was just staggering. She had intuitive wisdom, but never had he met an elf so lacking in the wisdom received by experience.  
  
There was so much that she wanted to learn, so much she needed to be taught if ever she were to survive on her own. He did not want to teach her though. It was not that he couldn't, it just instinctively didn't feel right. He did not want to act in that capacity, not only seeing but also sensing her vulnerabilities and then playing to those. He couldn't do that. With everything changing around her, the only thing she knew was that she needed a constant, desperately. And he seemed an attractive target, simply because he was familiar.  
  
He was an easy target? No, whether she knew it or not, he could sense that she wanted more from him than he was willing to give. He could see it in her clear eyes that she was falling in love with him. This he could recognize already, but he could tell just by her thoughts she had not yet fully acknowledged it herself. She would be entirely easy to seduce, in part because she thought she wanted it. But he refused take advantage of her simple-hearted nature like that.  
  
'Take advantage of?' he thought to himself. Why would he even think of such a thing? He realized he'd let her get much too close. There was no way she should be entering his thoughts like this so soon, on any kind of a level.  
  
He recognized feelings of a different kind of guilt, almost as if he were betraying his first love. His only love, he corrected himself. Perhaps he hadn't changed after all those years.  
  
Being entirely encompassed in thought, he was no longer listening to the forest, otherwise he might have sensed the approaching footsteps on the wet grass. With a "thwack" he felt the sharp point of an arrow slice into his side. Immediately Legolas ducked out of sight behind a wide tree. His keen elvish senses heard no footsteps, only very faint, shallow breathing in the distance.  
  
He could still feel the arrow lodged in his side even before he glanced down at his wound. His blue eyes narrowed recognizing the red feathered arrow. It was from Mirkwood, and was one of his own.  
  
"Did you hear it go down?" came the voice of Merry.  
  
"Ya, I think this way," answered Pippin. "What sort of beast do you suppose it was?"  
  
"I don't know," replied Merry nearly tripping over a rock, "but Frodo, you're a great shot."  
  
"Just help me look," Frodo whispered to the two.  
  
Legolas held his breath and with both hands jerked the bloodied arrow from his side. Stepping out from the tree, he saw the three hobbits respond equally shocked by his presence. The elf handed the arrow back to Frodo. "You're a terrible shot," he told them, walking past the hobbits.  
  
Merry, Pippin, and Frodo looked at each other and then dashed after him. "I am so sorry, Legolas wait!" cried Frodo, but the elf continued to stalk back through the forest where he finally reached the training grounds again. He paused only momentarily to watch the beautiful creature he had just been contemplating lift her own bow and slice through the air hitting a set target with deadly precision.  
  
Lowering her weapon, she nodded at her results, and then out of the corner of her eye saw the four at the end of the grounds. 'Legolas!' she cried, seeing even from there the dark blood seeping through his tunic. Dropping her bow, she leapt towards him and grabbed his arm, pulling it away from his side so she could take a better look. 'This is my fault. I'm so sorry.'  
  
He shook his head.  
  
'No no, I told them to go out and try practicing in a real-world environment. It's my fault."  
  
"She put Frodo up to it!" Merry jumped in, seeing that neither of the elves were going to speak.  
  
"She didn't actually say anything," added Frodo, his wide blue eyes finding the ground, "but she did nod when we were talking of going out to do it. She did not intend on me hitting you."  
  
"I will be fine," the blonde told her.  
  
'No.' She looked rather hurt by his coolness. 'You helped me, let me help you.'  
  
************ 


End file.
